Going out in style

I went to see Avatar last night; it was all I could have hoped for; computer generated images galore, realistic looking hair (how far we've moved on since Toy Story and the unpleasantly unrealistic looking dog) and no script whatsoever. It was certainly nice to watch various exotic animals swooping around through imaginary landscapes, but I could help but pause occasionally, noticing that the plot made. No. Sense. At. All.

But it was two hours of mindless escapism, and another forty minutes of Stuff Blowing Up. I enjoyed it a lot.

I didn't enjoy my over stimulated mind being incapable of sleep until 2am though.

As a result, today was a struggle. I left my tupperware box of pasta on the kitchen counter, and only remembered as I disembarked from the tram in Central. I couldn't abide the idea of food going to waste, so I took the tram home at lunchtime. This took 45 minutes, after which I had to wolf down the pasta and then rush straight back to work, after spending ten minutes on Wikipedia reading about divebombers. What a varied life I lead.

I left the office again at seven and took the MTR home instead. The train was packed; and inconveniently, it seemed to be packed full of people dragging large black plastic bin liners full of their possessions onto the train. Where were they going? What were they doing? What was in those bags? When shall we find out?

I assume about the same time that I get arrested for stealing bags of rubbish in the MTR.

Later, I went drinking in Wan Chai. Lockhart Road is nothing but knocking shops and dodgy bars, and, inappropriately enough, Chinese families walking their children home. Maybe it's like a cheaper version of Disneyland for them, where they can show their kids the filthy gweilos. Cheaper than visiting Mickey Mouse.